З життя
То що, я недостойний? – запитав він приголомшено.
Віктор зніяковіло запитав:
– Що, я не гідний?
– Так, ти не гідний! – спокійно погодилася дружина.
Ця розмова сталася під час вечері: Ірка зізналася, що полюбила іншого і планує подавати на розлучення. Це був справжній гром серед ясного неба: ще вчора ж вони всі разом були в аквапарку, і нічого такого не передбачалося!
– Як це так одразу полюбила?
Виявилося, що це тривало вже досить давно.
– В сенсі “давно”? – ошелешено поцікавився Вітя. – Ти, мабуть, на два фронти працювала увесь цей час?
Дружина ухильно відвела погляд і промовчала, що означало: так.
Іноді таке трапляється: не хотіла передчасно руйнувати сім’ю. Але тепер вона наважилася і хоче піти до чоловіка, який її дуже любить.
– А як же Аліска?
– А що Аліска?
– Ну, кому потрібна чужа дитина? Ти, мабуть, плануєш забрати її з собою?
– Тут все нормально! – ухильно відповіла Ірка.
В голосі дружини були якісь незвичні нотки. Чи це здалося?
Дружина продовжила:
– Так, тут не буде жодних неприємностей! Він – чудова людина і буде мені гідним чоловіком!
– Що, я не гідний? – зніяковіло поцікавився Віктор.
– Так, ти не гідний! – спокійно пояснила Ірка.
– І що змусило тебе визнати, що я не гідний?
– Та порівняла тебе з одним!
– От з цього і треба було починати! Значить, у тебе з’явився хтось, з ким ти мене почала порівнювати, я правильно розумію?
– Так, правильно!
Все це здавалося природним: у дружини з’явився інший – Ірка була дуже привабливою. Кого вона, мабуть, і полюбила.
Ну, що ж – кохання така річ! Інколи спалахує, що вже й не загасити! І вихід з цієї ситуації був лише один: розлучення! Ну не сперечатися ж з дружиною, доводячи їй, що він все ж таки гідний!
Якось вони прожили всі ці шість років: їхній дочці Алісці нещодавно виповнилося чотири. І жили непогано: тебе ж все влаштовувало!
Але раз вже він, Віктор, визнаний нею тим, ким визнаний, нехай вона йде до того, хто кращий, щасливіший, красивіший, багатший і гідніший: що потрібно підкреслити.
А він себе нав’язувати не збирається. І вчинить, як справжній чоловік: погодиться на розлучення, платитиме аліменти і бачитиме дочку.
Але тут з’явилася невелика загвоздка – його мила Ірочка раптом “вивернула йому претензію”: залишити їм з Аліскою спільно нажиту квартиру.
– Це ще чому? – здивувався Віктор.
– Як чому? Бо я не збираюся ділити таке хороше житло!
Квартира дійсно була хорошою, зручною і розташованою в обжитому районі: все – в пішій доступності. І не посперечаєшся!
– А ти хочеш загнати нас у глушину: адже Алісонька тільки почала звикати до дитсадка! І це знову було правдою.
– Добре, а мені-то куди діватись?
– А ти поки поживеш на зйомній, потім щось собі купиш! І врахуй: якщо не погодишся, я забороню тобі бачитися з дочкою!
Це було нахабством, шантажем і суперечило моральному обличчю, в цілому, пристойної Ірки. В принципі, робити це вона не мала права. І все можна було оскаржити. Але вже в судовому порядку.
А це було не тільки принизливо, але й енергозатратно: скільки сил і часу потрібно буде витратити на візити до нашого найбільш гуманного суду у світі! А про нерви і говорити нема чого. Напевно, новий коханий її накрутив! Отже: треба б йому начистити фізіономію. І заодно подивитися в його безстидні оченята.
Адже що придумав, люди добрі: відтяти житло і приїхати сюди жити! І це – гідно, на вашу думку? Я вас благатиму! Що з тобою, Ірочка, головою вдарилася?
Так, дружина сказала, що жити вони збираються в цій квартирі. А його дві квартири будуть здавати: він же не бідняк, а нещасний, як деякі, Вітенько…
І Віктор, навіть не роздумуючи, вирішив не сперечатися і залишити квартиру цьому невідомому йому нахабному шибайголові і дружині: коротше, подавіться!
Тим більше, що дівчинку тато дуже любив, і стосунки після розлучення з неї не збирався припиняти.
І не винна дитина в тому, що в матері на горизонті з’явилася скороспіла любов.
Крім усього перерахованого, житло було куплено в іпотеку. Виплачувати яку погодився майбутній другий чоловік: він-то не стане нити щодо кожного платежу, як ти!
“От і чудово! – подумав Віктор. – Хоч якийсь плюc від всього цього, що відбувається!”.
А він поки поживе на орендованій, а там буде видно.
Головне, не поспішати! Раптом Ірка одумається і вирішить повернутися: хто їх розбере, цих жінок?
Як там кажуть на сході: поспішай повільно!
І питання було вирішено: Віктор наступного дня пішов з сім’ї.
Перший подав на розлучення, не бажаючи заважати чужому щастю. Але подивитися на розлучника, який завоював серце його дружини, чоловік дуже хотів. І зробити це він все ніяк не міг: під час усіх візитів батька у вихідні щасливого суперника вдома не було. Або він був, але ховався. Але чому, цікаво?
Вийшов би, показався, хоч що б: адже його обрала красива Ірка! Чому б не порадіти чужій поразці і не подивитися на нещасного відторгнутого чоловіка?
А потім Аліска сказала, що мама перед його приходом завжди відправляє нового папу гуляти: інтрига, як фурункул, розрослася до величезних розмірів!
Чому? Все повинно було бути зовсім інакше: Ірка, навпаки, повинна була хвалитися вдалим і гідним придбанням, а не приховувати його.
Значить, тут було щось не так! Але що?
І тоді Віктор схитрував: прийшов на півгодини раніше – він завжди забирав дочку об одинадцятій – і затаївся на дитячому майданчику.
Побачене вразило: з під’їзду вийшов його шкільний друг Борис! Так, саме він виявився обранцем Ірки і новим татом Аліски.
Ось він, зрадник – поп Гапон! А ще найкращий друг, називається: от і вір після цього людям!
Абсолютно приголомшений побаченим, Віктор продовжував сидіти в будиночку. Хоча вже час було підніматися в квартиру: пазл почав складатися. Причому, зовсім не так.
Пригадалося, що друг часто розповідав, як його дочку ростить інший чоловік. Це відбувалося, коли вони разом пили: тоді у чоловіка розв’язувався язик.
В інший час він про це не розповідав. І не підіймав цю тему.
Невже, Аліска – донька Бориса? Це припущення мало підстави. Виходило, що так.
І виходило, що друг з Іркою вже разом близько п’яти років: цей висновок зробив Віктор після нехитрих арифметичних підрахунків.
Значить, майже відразу після весілля його почали обманювати. Це як же так?
І хто? Його кохана, єдина жінка і той, кого він вважав найкращим другом! Це виявилося подвійною зрадою.
“Ну, що, тепер тримайтеся, хлопці! – подумав ошуканий чоловік”.
Ні, не варто думати, що він не пішов гуляти з Аліскою: дитина ж ні в чому не винна! І навіть ні слова не сказав Ірці! Навіщо? Все було ясно і без слів.
“Але він, звичайно ж – вирішив для себе Віктор – вживе відповідні дії. Тому що спускати все на гальмах не хоче і не буде”.
І навіщо? І як ви собі це уявляєте? Йому нагадили, образно кажучи, на голову, а він утреться, зробить реверанс і подякує: дякую, люди добрі?
Ні, дорогі мої і дуже гідні люди! За все потрібно платити!
Для початку чоловік зробив тест ДНК. Виявилося, що друг не збрехав щодо дівчинки: це дійсно була Борисию дочка, до якої Віктор не мав жодного відношення.
Тому, фіг тобі, мама Іро, а не аліменти.
А потім чоловік подав позов про розподіл спільно нажитого майна: будете знати, як робити гадості і брехати протягом тривалого часу!
– Так, я обіцяв не ділити житло, зізнаюсь! – відповів він на претензії дружини щодо порушення даного їй чесного слова. – Але ти ж теж давала на весіллі мені слово про любов і вірність!
Яке ти, дорога Іра, порушила! Тому і я порушу дане тобі слово: і у нас буде один – один.
Коротше, ти перша почала. А хто придумав, той і водить, Ірочка!
І далі, “солодко пара”, живіть, як хочете! Я у вашій “харчовій ланцюжку” не маю наміру приймати ніякої участі!
Ірка спробувала закликати до сумління і натякала на його внутрішньому благородстві: ти ж не зможеш з нами так вчинити!
На що отримала відповідь:
– Чому це не можу? Дуже навіть можу! Ти ж сказала, що я негідний? Ось я і вчиню негідно – хоч виправдаю твої слова! Що не так?
Після цього дружина заткнулася. А Боря, який був присутній при всьому цьому “з’ясуванні”, не вимовив ні слова…
Отримавши після розлучення і продажу квартири свою частку, Віктор переїхав в інше місто поблизу: цього вистачило на покупку хорошої однокімнатної.
Що купили Боря з Іркою, його не цікавило.
Все складалося непогано: дах над головою був, а працювати тепер навіть можна було вдома.
Але от, через п’ять місяців проживання, Віктор раптом зрозумів, що дуже сумує за маленькою Аліскою, яка раптом стала йому чужою.
Як так – Аліска і чужа? А як же всі ці чотири роки? Безсонні ночі, коли ріжуться зубки, і спільні прогулянки?
Адже не та мати, яка народила. І це може бути легко трансформовано на батька.
Так, Віктора почало тягнути до своєї маленької дочки, яка нічого не розуміла в хитросплетіннях їхніх стосунків і як і раніше вважала його своїм татом.
І тоді чоловік подзвонив колишній тещі. І від неї дізнався, що Ірка з Борисом вже розійшлися: справа навіть не дійшла до реєстрації відносин!
Кавалер, стукаючи копитами, пішов у свої апартаменти, а колишня дружина жила одна в купленій після розлучення однокімнатній.
А Аліску сплавили до бабусі…
– Вони, чомусь, не змогли жити разом! – розповіла теща. І попросила: – А ви б помирилися, Вітенька! Ну, заплуталася дівчина! Але тепер-то все можна виправити!
З нею у зятя завжди були хороші стосунки.
– А навіщо, Зоє Семенівно? – резонно запитав Вітя. – Після всього – миритися?
Ні, помиритись, звичайно, можна було: хоча б, заради дитини.
Якби були якісь почуття: нехай, з одного боку.
Але Ірка його вже давно розлюбила. Так і він більше нічого не відчував до цієї красивої жінки, яка так легко визнала його негідним.
Значить, так тому і бути.
А що вийшло в сухому залишку? Зруйнувалася сім’я, яка вважалася міцною. І кілька людей, в результаті всіх подій, залишилися нещасними.
А ще була втрачена хороша квартира. І це теж було істотним. Не кажучи вже про витрачені сили, нерви і гроші.
Ну що, ти тепер задоволена, Ірка?
Мабуть, колишня дружина була не задоволена. Але хто ж з жінок зізнається, що вчинив величезну дурість?
А Віктор почав висилати гроші колишній тещі на Аліску і регулярно спілкуватися з дівчинкою по телефону.
І, при першій можливості, відвідувати дочку. А на канікули забирати її до себе: він поки жив один.
Адже правильно кажуть: чужих дітей не буває.
А що буде далі – покаже час. Адже не дарма ж кажуть: поспішай повільно…
“What Do You Mean You Won’t Take Care of My Son’s Child?”—The Mother-in-Law Couldn’t Hold Back “Firstly, I’m not turning my nose up at little Billy. I’d like to remind you that in this household, it’s me—after work, as a proper wife and mother—who does the second shift of cooking, laundry, and cleaning. I’m happy to help out and offer advice, but I have no intention of taking on full parental duties.” “So what do you mean, you’re not going to help? Is this the real you—a hypocrite?” “Oh come off it, Rita. Who wants work if it doesn’t pay?” As expected, at the school reunion, Becky couldn’t help but gossip and pass judgement, just like always. But those days when Rita didn’t know how to answer were long gone. Now she always had a quick comeback, and she wasn’t about to let Becky get away with her sharp tongue this time. “If you’re worried about finding money, that doesn’t mean everyone else has the same problem,” Rita shrugged nonchalantly. “I inherited two flats in London from my dad. One was his, which we lived in until my parents divorced, and the other came from my grandparents, first to him, then to me. And rental prices there, as you know, aren’t exactly local rates—I have enough to live on and to enjoy a few treats, so I don’t have to scramble for any old job just because it pays. Isn’t that why you left medicine to work in retail?” That was supposed to be a secret. Rita had promised not to tell anyone. But if Becky really wanted to keep it under wraps, she should have watched her words—especially not calling Rita an ‘idiot’ in public. What, did she seriously think she’d get away with that? If anyone’s being an idiot, it’s hardly Rita. “You’re working in retail? Seriously?” “You promised you wouldn’t tell!” Becky squeaked, wounded, and grabbing her bag, rushed out of the restaurant, clearly fighting back tears. “Serves her right,” Andrew commented after a moment’s silence. “Honestly, I’ve had enough of her. Who even invited her?” Tanya chimed in. “I had to invite everyone,” said Anna, the former head girl and now chief organiser, apologetically. “I remember Becky was never exactly pleasant in school, but I thought people could change—well, some do. Some.” “But not always,” Rita shrugged. They all burst out laughing, and after that, people actually started asking Rita about her job—this time genuinely curious, with none of the snide remarks about her choices or intelligence. Hardly anyone comes across this line of work (nor would you wish it on your worst enemy), so there are a lot of myths and misunderstandings. Rita spent some time dispelling them for her old friends. “Why even bother treating these kids if there’s no point?” someone asked. “Who says there’s no point? Look, I’ve got a lad, five years old. Birth went a bit sideways, he had a lack of oxygen, so now he’s got some developmental delays. The outlook is actually really positive for cases like his—he just started talking a bit later, at three, and now his parents are taking him to speech therapists and neurologists. There’s every chance he’ll start school in a mainstream class, not special ed, and have a regular life. But if no one worked with him, things would look very different.” “I see. So you didn’t need to chase pennies, and chose a socially meaningful career instead,” Val summed up. Soon enough, the chat moved on to the rest of the classmates and their families. Suddenly, Rita felt like someone was watching her. At first, she brushed it off, but it came again—a prickling sense of being observed. She casually glanced around: no, no one was staring, no one there who’d pay her any mind. So she relaxed, carried on chatting, and soon forgot the odd feeling altogether. A week after the reunion, early morning, Rita was about to leave for work, only to find her car blocked in. She rang the number left on the other car and was greeted by profuse apologies and a promise to run down and move it at once. “Sorry for the hassle!” said a cheerful young man as he rushed over. “Had to pop by on an errand, but parking’s impossible round here. I’m Max, by the way.” “I’m Rita,” she introduced herself. There was something about Max—his way, his clothes, his aftershave—that got under her skin in a good way. She agreed to go out with him, then on another date. Three months in, she couldn’t imagine life without him. Even better, Max’s mum and his young son from a previous marriage took to Rita instantly. The boy had additional needs, but thanks to Rita’s profession, she quickly found common ground. She even offered Max some fresh ideas to help with his son’s social skills. By their first year together, Rita moved in with Max and his son, renting out her own place through the same agency that managed her London flats. All seemed well, but then came the warning signs. Little things at first—“help Billy get ready” or “can you watch him for half an hour while I dash out?”—which Rita didn’t mind, especially since she and Billy got along, and she had the time. But the requests piled up, became heavier. Rita had an honest chat with Max. She was happy to help, but Billy was still his responsibility first, especially since her whole professional life was already dedicated to children with extra needs. Max seemed to understand—until, right before the wedding, he and his mum discussed Billy’s rehabilitation plan, clearly expecting Rita to take over in all her free time. “Whoa, hang on,” Rita interrupted. “Max, we agreed—your son, your responsibility. I don’t ask you to go help with my mum’s house, sort out her repairs, or handle her problems, do I? I manage all that myself.” “That’s different,” his mother snorted. “Your mum’s a grown woman, lives on her own. Billy’s a child.” “So are you saying, after the wedding, I’m supposed to put up with all of this and you’ll just expect it to be normal?” “Look, I’m not turning my nose up at Billy. But after work I already do the cooking, cleaning, laundry. Add all of Billy’s extra care to that? That’s for his dad to manage. I’ll help and advise, but I won’t be the full-time parent.” “And you call yourself a decent person?” Max’s mum snapped. “Happy to brag about your job to your mates, but can’t be bothered to actually care for a child?” “What are you on about?” Rita was baffled. Then it clicked: Max’s mum worked at the same restaurant as a dishwasher—they must have overheard everything at the reunion. “So this was all a set-up, just to dump your child on me?” “You really think I’d be with you if it wasn’t for Billy and your job?” Max couldn’t hold back. “If not for those things, I wouldn’t have looked twice at you…” “Oh, really? Well then, don’t!” Rita slipped off her engagement ring and threw it at her ex-fiancé. “You’ll regret this,” Max and his mother threatened. “No real man wants a mouse like you, dead-end job, no money.” “I’ve got two flats in London, so I’m sorted,” Rita shot back, savouring the way their faces changed, then went off to pack. Of course, the next moment came the desperate apologies and promises—he’d care for his son himself, he’d never talk like that again, he was just tired and overworked. But Rita wasn’t buying it. She even visited her old classmates and had a laugh about the whole thing. And she’s still hoping to meet someone who’ll love her for who she is, not her bank balance or job skills. For now, her work and her friends are enough. And maybe she’ll finally get that cat—at least you can train one of those, which is more than can be said for some men.
How can you say you wont take care of my sons child? my future mother-in-law snapped, unable to hide her...
Are You Out of Your Mind? That’s Our Son, Not a Stranger! How Can You Throw Him Out of His Own Home?! – Shouted Mother-in-Law Mrs. Johnson, Clenching Her Fists in Fury…
Have you lost your marbles? Thats our own son, not some stranger off the street! How can you kick him...
Unexpected Guests in Our Home: Returning from Holiday to Find Strangers, Family Drama, and Our Cat Missing
Emma is the first to unlock the door, and she freezes in the entrance. The sound of the television drifts...
Get Out of My Flat! — Mum Said Calmly “Out,” her mother said with perfect calm. Arina smirked and leaned back in her chair — certain her mum was talking to her friend. “Out of my flat!” Natasha turned to her daughter. “Len, did you see the post?” her friend Lena burst into the kitchen, still in her coat. “Arisha’s had a baby! Seven pounds, twenty and a half inches.” Spitting image of his dad, that same button nose. I’ve already run round all the shops buying baby clothes. Why so glum? “Congratulations, Nat. I’m happy for you,” Lena stood to pour her friend some tea. “Sit down, at least take your coat off.” “Oh, I can’t stay long,” Natasha perched on the edge of the chair. “So much to do, just so much. Arinka’s a marvel, does everything herself, works her fingers to the bone.” Her husband is a real gem, they’ve even managed to get a mortgage on a flat and are finishing the renovations. So proud of my girl! I must have brought her up right! Lena silently put a cup in front of her friend. Right… If only Natasha knew… *** Exactly two years ago, Natasha’s daughter Arina had turned up at Lena’s door without calling—face puffy from crying and hands shaking. “Auntie Len, please, don’t tell my mum. I’m begging you! If she finds out, it’ll break her heart,” Arina sobbed, twisting a damp tissue in her hands. “Arina, calm down. Tell me properly—what’s happened?” Lena was seriously frightened. “I… at work…” Arina hiccupped. “A colleague’s money disappeared from her bag. Fifty thousand.” And CCTV caught me going in when no one else was there. I didn’t take it, Aunt Len! I swear! But they said: either I give them fifty grand by tomorrow lunchtime, or they go to the police. One of them claims they saw me hiding a wallet. It’s a set-up, Aunt Len! But who’ll believe me? “Fifty thousand?” Lena frowned. “Why didn’t you go to your dad?” “I did!” Arina dissolved into fresh sobs. “He said it’s my own fault, that he wouldn’t give me a penny since I’m so hopeless. He said: ‘Go to the police, let them teach you a lesson.’ He wouldn’t even let me in, just shouted at me through the door. I’ve got no one else, Aunt Len. I’ve saved up twenty thousand but I’m thirty short.” “And Natasha? Why not tell your mum? She is your mum.” “No! Mum would eat me alive. She always says I embarrass her — and now, this, a theft… She works at a school, everyone knows her. Please, lend me the thirty thousand, yeah? I swear, I’ll pay you back two or three grand a week. I’ve already found a new job! Please, Aunt Len!” Lena’s heart ached for the poor girl. Just twenty, whole life ahead, and already a stain like this. Her father had refused to help, her mother would—and truly could—bite her head off… “Who doesn’t make mistakes in life?” Lena thought. Arina kept weeping. “Alright,” she said. “I have the money. I was saving it for my teeth, but my teeth can wait.” Just promise this is the last time. And I won’t tell your mum if you’re that scared. “Thank you! Thank you, Aunt Len! You saved my life!” Arina threw her arms round Lena’s neck. That first week, Arina really did bring her two thousand. Bubbly, she said it was all sorted, the police wouldn’t be involved, her new job was going well. But then… she just stopped replying to messages. A month, two, three. Lena would see her at Natasha’s parties, but Arina acted like they barely knew each other — a cold “hello” and that was it. Lena didn’t push it. She thought: “Youth, she must be embarrassed, that’s why she’s avoiding me.” She decided thirty thousand wasn’t worth wrecking years of friendship with Natasha. She wrote off the debt and forgot it. *** “Are you even listening to me?” Natasha waved her hand in front of Lena’s face. “What are you thinking about?” “Oh, just… my own stuff,” Lena shook her head clear. “Listen,” Natasha lowered her voice. “I ran into Ksenia—you remember, our old neighbour? She came up to me at the shop yesterday. Seemed odd. Started asking about Arisha, how she’s doing, if she’s paid any debts off. Didn’t quite understand what she meant. I told her my Arinka is independent, earns her own way. Ksenia just smirked and left. You don’t know, did Arisha maybe ever borrow something from her?” Lena felt herself tense inside. “No idea, Nat. Maybe just small change.” “Well, I best be off. Need to stop by the chemist,” Natasha stood, kissed Lena on the cheek, and fluttered away. That evening, Lena couldn’t take it any longer. She found Ksenia’s number and called. “Ksyusha, hi. It’s Lena. Did you see Natasha today? What debts were you talking about?” A heavy sigh. “Oh, Lenka… I thought you’d know. You and Natasha—so close. Two years ago Arinka came running to me. In tears, red-eyed. Said she was accused of stealing at work. Either she paid thirty grand or it was off to jail. Begged me not to tell her mum, sobbed the whole time. Silly me, I gave her the money. She promised to pay me back in a month. Then disappeared… Lena clutched her phone. “Thirty thousand?” she repeated. “Exactly thirty?” “Yeah. She said that’s exactly what she needed. In the end, she paid back five hundred after six months and vanished. Then Vera from the next block told me Arina came to her with the same story. Vera gave her forty thousand. And Galina Petrovna, their old teacher, she also ‘rescued’ Arisha from prison. She gave her fifty. “Hold on…” Lena sat heavily on her sofa. “So she asked all of you for the same sum? Same story?” “Looks like it,” Ksenia’s voice was cold now. “She just squeezed ‘protection money’ from all of Natasha’s friends. Thirty, forty grand out of each. Story all made up, tugged on our heartstrings. We all love Natasha—so we kept our mouths shut, didn’t want to upset her. Meanwhile, Arinka must have splurged it. A month after all this, there she was on Instagram — holidaying in Turkey. “I gave her thirty, too,” Lena said quietly. “There it is,” sighed Ksenia. “That makes five or six of us. That’s not a ‘youthful mistake,’ Lena. That’s proper fraud. And Natasha’s none the wiser, so proud of her daughter. And her daughter’s a thief!” Lena put the phone down. Her ears rang. She wasn’t upset about the money — she’d already let it go. She was sickened by how cold and calculated the twenty-year-old had been, manipulating grown women’s trust so casually. *** Next day Lena went to Natasha’s. She wasn’t planning to cause a scene. She just wanted to look Arina in the eyes. Arina had just come back from the hospital, and was staying with her mum while her mortgage flat was being renovated. “Oh, Auntie Lena!” Arina’s smile was tight as she greeted her mum’s friend at the door. “Come on in. Tea?” Natasha fussed at the stove. “Hey, Lenny, grab a seat. Why didn’t you phone?” Lena sat down directly across from Arina. “Arina,” she began calmly. “I met Ksenia. And Vera. And Miss Petrova. Last night we had a long chat. We’ve formed, shall we say, a ‘victims’ club’.” Arina stilled, went pale, and darted a glance at her mum’s back. “What are you on about, Len?” Natasha turned. “Oh, Arina knows,” Lena kept her eyes on the young woman. “Remember that nasty little story two years ago? When you borrowed thirty from me? Thirty from Ksenia. Forty from Vera. Fifty from Miss Petrova. We all ‘rescued’ you from jail. Each of us thinking we were the only ones who knew your big secret.” Natasha’s hand quivered, spilling boiling water across the hob. “What fifty thousand?” Natasha slowly set down the kettle. “Arina? What’s she talking about? Did you borrow money from my friends? Even from Miss Petrova?!” “Mum… it’s not what you think…” Arina stammered. “I… I paid most of it back…” “You paid back nothing,” Lena said flatly. “You dropped off two grand for show, then disappeared. You conned over two hundred grand out of us using a made-up story. We all stayed quiet out of pity for your mum. Last night I realised, we should have pitied ourselves. “Arina, look at me right now. You scammed money from my friends?! You lied about a theft to rob people who visit this house?” “Mum, I needed the money for a deposit!” Arina shouted. “You never gave me a thing! Dad wouldn’t give me a penny. I had to start my life somehow! So what? It’s not like it was their last bit of money, I didn’t rob them blind!” Lena felt revolted. So that was it… “That’s enough. Natasha, I’m sorry to dump all this on you now, but I can’t keep your daughter’s secret anymore. I don’t want to encourage her behaviour. She’s been treating us all like idiots!” Natasha leaned on the table, her shoulders shaking. “Out,” she said, with perfect calm. Arina smirked and leaned back — certain her mum meant Lena. “Out of my flat!” Natasha turned to her daughter. “Pack up your things and go to your husband. I don’t want to see you here again!” Arina went white: “Mum, I’ve got a baby! I can’t take stress!” “Mother? You haven’t got one anymore. Mother belonged to the girl I thought was honest. But you? You’re a thief. Miss Petrova… She rings me every day, asking how things are, never said a word… How am I supposed to face her now? How?!” Arina grabbed her bag, threw a towel on the floor. “Choke on your bloody money!” she yelled. “You old witches! Go to hell, both of you!” She rushed to the next room, snatched up her baby’s basket, and stormed out. Natasha slumped in a chair and buried her face in her hands. Lena felt ashamed. “Sorry, Nat…” “No, Lenka… You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry I raised such a… thief. I honestly believed she’d made it on her own — and all this time… What a disgrace…” Lena squeezed her friend’s shoulder as Natasha broke down into sobs. *** Within a week, Arina’s husband — pale and drawn — visited all the “lenders”, apologised without meeting their eyes, and promised to repay everyone. And he did start making repayments — fifty thousand for Miss Petrova, paid by Natasha herself. Lena doesn’t blame herself for how it all turned out. Surely a trickster deserves to be found out — right?
Out of my flat! Mum said. Out, Mum said with absolute calm. Clara smirked and leaned back on her chair...
Just a Childhood Friend: A Slice of Cheesecake, Board Games, and the Tangled Drama of Growing Up
Are you genuinely planning to spend your entire Saturday sorting through rubbish in your dads old garage? The whole day?...
No Magic Here New Year’s Eve was approaching at breakneck speed, like an unstoppable train. The rush of it all left Helen breathless. She stood on the metaphorical platform, realizing she had no ticket, nothing was going to work out, happiness was out of reach, and she’d never find that holiday spirit. Why had she even invited guests? Who would want to ring in the New Year with a failure? *** On December 31st, disaster struck first thing: after a decade of loyal service, the washing machine decided to retire in dramatic style, flooding the bathroom. Finding a plumber on New Year’s Eve was a quest and a half! After spending hours and fraying her nerves, Helen finally managed it and breathed a sigh of relief, hoping the worst was over. But… At midday, her ginger tabby Basil, self-proclaimed gourmand, devoured all the sausage meant for the Russian salad, leaving her with little more than sad garden peas and pickles. As if that wasn’t enough, Basil decided to go hunting for a blue tit that had paused on the open window ledge. The giant ficus crashed from the windowsill, dragged the Christmas tree down with it, and extinguished for good the old fairy lights Helen loved so much. https://clck.ru/3R634b Pot shards and the broken baubles she’d kept since childhood mixed in with the scattered dirt. Helen nearly cried as she cleaned up the chaos. Then came a smashed decanter, burnt chicken, and the final straw: just as guests were due to arrive, Helen realised in horror she’d forgotten to buy a cake. Panicked, she phoned her sister. — Kate, disaster! I’ve got no cake! — Relax! — came her sister’s cheerful reply. — I’m just pulling up. Come downstairs, we’ll sort it out. — Where are you? — Told you: I’m outside your building. Helen went downstairs to find a scene worthy of an oil painting: Kate’s car parked outside, her best friend Maisie clutching a massive bag, and Auntie Gail standing proud with a giant bowl of aspic. — Why aspic? And a whole basin? — Helen gasped. — For emergencies! — Auntie Gail answered solemnly, forever doling out advice no one asked for. — I know what your cooking’s like! Besides, we have the whole night ahead! Got any Russian salad? Helen shrugged uncertainly. While the girls dashed out for cake, Maisie was stringing up streamers—which Basil promptly got tangled up in, transforming into an alien creature. Kate’s husband, Ian, fresh from work and arriving at just the right moment, undertook the rescue. Basil didn’t resist until he spotted Helen—and then launched himself so joyously at her that he left Ian with a bloody scratch. First aid administered, Ian gallantly volunteered to help in the kitchen—though his efforts mostly consisted of philosophical musings like, “A salad is a state of mind, not just ingredients,” which was about what Helen and Kate had come to expect. — What’s this box, Helen? — Maisie called from the lounge. — “Happy New Year” written on it. Oh, there’s a note. “Open at midnight. From Gran Val.” Helen ran to see. — Oh! I completely forgot! Kate, this was from Gran—she said to open it on New Year’s, around two in the morning. Promised it’d be a surprise. https://clck.ru/3R62hu — Wonder what’s inside? — Kate eyed the box curiously. — Let’s open it now! Helen shook her head urgently. — You can’t! She’ll ask. You’ll see. What if there’s some sort of secret lock? We’d ruin the surprise. Let’s do just what Gran said—wait. Now everyone was intrigued—even Auntie Gail settled closer, eyeing the box with interest. *** They listened to the Prime Minister’s speech, clinked glasses of prosecco, ate “cat salad”, laughed and argued, then finally— — Is it two yet? — Helen checked. — Well, it’s time! — She ceremoniously raised the box. — Gran Val’s surprise! The only man present was entrusted with opening it. Ian fiddled with the lid and lifted it. Inside, cushioned with cotton wool, were no banknotes or old photos, but dozens of tiny, colourfully tied scrolls, each with a name tag attached. — What’s all this? — Ian asked, bewildered. Helen picked up the first scroll labelled “Helen” and read aloud: — “My darling granddaughter Helen. Did things go wrong again today? Broken washing machine? Cat ate the salad? Don’t worry! Any problem is just a reason to order pizza and binge-watch your favourite show. Buy the cake in the morning. What matters is you’re surrounded by people who’ll help you eat that pizza. Love you to the moon and back. Gran Val.” The living room fell silent—then erupted in laughter. Helen laughed so hard tears streamed from her eyes. — How… How did she know?! — That’s magic, — Auntie Gail murmured. — Mine! Give me mine! — Kate asked, hand outstretched. She unrolled her scroll. — “Katie, love. Stop quarrelling with Ian over silly things. Give him a hug instead. He’s a good one—even if he does ramble on. If he starts again, just kiss him. It’s the surest way to win any argument. Love to you both.” Ian blushed to his roots and immediately kissed Kate as everyone cheered. Maisie giggled and unrolled hers: — “Maisie, my lovely. Stop looking for love in bars and try the library, or even the corner shop. Normal boys are there too—just not in those strange skinny jeans. Oh, and please, ditch the purple hair dye; your natural colour suits you!” — How did she know about the hair?! — Maisie wailed. — I only changed it two days ago! At last, it was Auntie Gail’s turn. She opened her note as if it were a State Secret. — “Dear Gail. I know you’re the wisest in the family, always in the loop. But here’s one secret for you: kindness and wise words are wonderful, but sometimes it’s best to just stay quiet and enjoy a slice of cake. Love you lots.” Auntie Gail reddened, mumbled something, took a piece of cake and fell silent—for the first New Year in living memory, she didn’t give a single slice of advice. https://clck.ru/3R636x The laughter and conversation lasted till morning. The girls video-called Gran Val, who smiled from her armchair in another city and said, “Darlings! I’m so glad my surprise worked! No magic—just a Gran who knows and loves you all!” Next morning, as Helen tidied up, she gathered the scrolls into a pretty jar and set it in pride of place. They weren’t just wishes—they were her gran’s recipe for happiness: Don’t fear chaos, laugh at your misfortunes, cherish those nearby, eat what makes you happy (but don’t overdo it), and always remember—the greatest gift is knowing someone out there loves and understands you, always.
No Magic At All New Years Eve was approaching with the unstoppable force of a runaway London train. Emily stood...
Every Love Has Its Own Shape: The Story of Little Annie, Her Absent Mother, a Struggling Father, and the Neighbourly Kindness That Changed Their Lives
Each Love Has Its Own Shape Emily drifted out onto the street. At once, a chilly wind slipped through her...
A Midnight Echo Two Weeks Before Christmas, Alexandra Checked Into Rehab—Leaving Behind Family Traditions, Festive Cheer, and the Hope of Celebrating the Holiday at Home. Alone in a Hospital Room on New Year’s Eve, She Realises That Despite Hundreds of Contacts, There’s No One to Call—Until a Chance Meeting in a Snowy Park Reveals She May Not Be as Alone as She Feared.
Echo in the Night I was admitted to the rehabilitation centre two weeks before Christmas. There hadnt been any earlier...